Let's Have Some Fun
by Rachel3003
Summary: While Mom and Mama are away, Uncle Nick and Monica will play. Part 3 of We'll Always Have Each Other. CAPTAIN MARVEL BELONGS TO MARVEL STUDIOS.


***Slowly crawls out of her hole, sets chapter on the floor, pushes it forward with a stick and runs back to safety.***

* * *

**DAY 1: MONICA**

The first morning, Monica is up half an hour before Uncle Nick. She makes breakfast, pancakes for her and bacon with eggs for her temporary guardian. She carefully makes the coffee, being careful not to spill anything. Goose appears right as she sets the last pancake on the plate, and she searched around the cupboards for almost a minute for the cat food before remembering that she's not a cat and gives her a pancake and some bacon instead. She then covers everything so it doesn't get cold and goes to the bathroom for a quick shower. She changes into a pair of jean shorts and the official SHIELD shirt Uncle Nick's making her wear. As she steps back into the kitchen, she sees him setting the last plate on the table.

"Good morning, Uncle Nick!" She says, smile beaming. She skips to him and presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Morning," he grumbles, and Monica laughs.

"I knew you weren't a morning person. Mama owes me ten bucks." She giggles and takes a mug from the cupboard. "Black, right?" He hums and she pours him the coffee.

They eat in silence, her not-real-but-totally-real uncle only speaking between mouthfuls to tell Monica what she can and can't do around the Triskelion. Monica nods at most of them and snorts at others.

"You're kidding..." he shakes his head, an amused smile fighting to appear. "Well that's stupid, I should be able to go to the bathroom whenever I want."

Once they finish, they put everything in the dishwasher and Uncle Nick leaves to take a quick shower. Monica entertains herself with Goose and a mouse toy until he comes back and they leave. Goose perches herself on Uncle Nick's shoulder, her tail curling around his neck.

"We'll get you a booster this afternoon" tells her Nick as they enter the car.

"I'm almost fourteen, Uncle Nick, I don't need a booster." Goose curls on her lap, purring and batting at Monica's hand. The girl obeys and scratches her ears. "I've been in a space ship and I didn't need a booster, I don't need one in a car."

"Ok, then, Miss Teenager. Buckle up, let's go blow some minds." He grins at her for a second before he puts on his mean face and Monica giggles.

"I can't wait!"

* * *

The second they step foot in the building, every head turns their way. Monica takes great pleasure in the gobsmacked looks on the lower level agents as they pass by. She has to admit that they make a pretty weird picture: Nick Fury, looking completely badass in his all-black outfit and trademark leather jacket being followed by a teenager wearing an official SHIELD shirt, an Air Force jacket that's a size too big and a cat perched on her shoulder.

Yeah, it's not something you see every day.

"I didn't know you had a daughter, Agent Fury." Says the security agent as he takes the gun and everything metallic from her guardian.

"She's my niece." He gruffs out, passing through the scanner. He motions for Monica to do the same.

"Oh, you have siblings?" The guard sweats under the one-eyed glare and Monica presses her lips together to stifle her giggle.

"No, I don't." And then he turns around and stomps his way to the elevator.

Monica rushes behind him, grinning like a loon. Goose mewls and drops from her shoulder to her arms. Nick presses a button and the screen flashes red. He presses his thumb on a little pad and it turns green. The elevator starts and they go up.

"I have a meeting with the higher-ups in half an hour. You can either stay in my office or come with me."

"I can come? Aren't you gonna talk about classified stuff?" Uncle Nick huffs, a smirk appearing on his lips.

"You know more than any of them, believe me."

Monica grins once again, a bit smug that she has more knowledge about outer space than a bunch of super spies. Uncle Nick's office is pretty big and he tells her about his old office, the one he had when he met them. This one is much bigger and has a better view.

"That thing was like a shoebox," he complains as he rearranged some files in the filing cabinet and Monica plops down in his chair. Goose meows and curls in her little bed next to the window. "I swear, there wasn't even space for a real desk! That blasted thing only had space enough for a computer and one file, that's it!" Monica giggles as Nick continues complaining until there's a knock on the door. "Come in!"

A man steps in, with pale skin and dressed in a suit. Monica stops in her tracks at the sight. He's wearing a long-sleeved shirt, a jacket, and a tie, isn't he dying? Her Mom's Air Force jacket is only a windbreaker, it doesn't offer much warmth but a suit?! Is he crazy?

"Agent Fury, the bosses will be ready in-" he stops, blinks, and fixes Monica with a completely surprised stare. "Uhh... hello."

"Hi!" She grins up at him and pushes the chair from behind the table, rolling towards him and sticking up her hand for him to shake. "I'm Monica. Are you Agent Coulson?"

He shakes her hand slowly and nods just as carefully. She grins, delighted that she's causing the expected reaction. The man retracts his hand and clasps them in front of him, then behind his back and finally just lets them rest at his sides.

"Who– uhh, what– I mean–" she giggles at his flustered attempt at asking who she is and what she's doing in the headquarters of a spy agency.

"She's my niece, Agent, and she'll be here with us for two weeks. Make sure to inform Deputy Director Marks that I'm not to be sent in any mission during that time. And get Agent Hill to find me after the meeting." He ruffles around the files at the table. "Monica, do you have the classified file that was on the table?" She grins and takes it from behind her back. "Ok, let's go then."

Monica rolls back behind the desk and skips to catch up with Uncle Nick, the file still in her hands. She turns to wave at the confused agent.

"Please close the door when you leave, Agent Coulson, don't let Goose escape!"

* * *

It takes the four people already in the room almost a full minute to notice Monica. When they do, each of them has a different reaction. The guy with white hair and dead eyes immediately demands what the hell is a child doing in his boardroom; the second guy, this one with a blonde toupee and a thousand wrinkles, calmly asks her uncle who Monica is; Keller –this one Monica recognizes, Talos had simmed him once and had toyed with Nick for almost ten minutes before he realized and damned them all to hell– raises a brow and tells him to explain himself. The last person and only woman stays seated and calm, observing Monica with kind but calculating eyes. It makes her straighten her back and keep her eyes forward, just like Mom had taught her one day when she'd asked what they used to do at the Academy. There's something about her that compels Monica to show the utmost respect. The woman raises slowly from her chair and the clink of her hills against the marble floors silences the white-haired man's rage. She stops just in front of Monica and looks her over, her eyes lingering for a few seconds on the sewn name on the jacket.

"I presume you're not Captain Maria Rambeau." She says, voice soft but authoritarian, kind but demanding.

"No, ma'am. She's my mother, I'm Monica." The woman smiles, the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes deepening.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Monica; I'm Peggy." She offers her hand, and Monica shakes it. It takes her five full seconds to make the connection.

"Wait, Peggy? Peggy Carter? As in Director Carter?" the pitch in her voice rises, her eyes twinkling with child-like wonder. The older woman smiles and nods and she sees Her guardian sigh from the corner of her eye. She opens her mouth, ready to bombard the amazing woman with questions when her guardian speaks.

"Monica, if you start fangirling I'm kicking you out." She presses her lips together, stifling the excited squeal that threatens to escape. She's standing in front of _Peggy Carter_, the most badass woman in the world! (Her mothers don't count; they're otherworldly at this point). Director Carter rises and amused brow and an equally amused grin appears on her lips.

"And I'll kick both of you out if you don't explain what's a _teenager _doing in the Triskelion!" the moment's broken when the white-haired man snaps back in, and all eyes fall on him. Monica's posture slackens; this man makes her feel more disgust than respect.

"Monica is in my care while her mother and aunt are off-world, Mr. Carson." Speaks Uncle Nick, and Monica looks at him, unsure of how much he'll reveal. "And believe me, she's not just a teenager."

"Off-world?" asks Keller, a twitch in his brow. Looks like he's still not over Talos impersonating him.

"Off-galaxy." Mutters Monica, but only Director Carter seems to hear her.

"Yes, but that's not what this meeting is about. You wanted to discuss the prototype?" Her uncle steps towards the table, motioning for Monica to do the same, she follows, setting the file on the table. Director Carter takes the seat next to Monica and the men do the same. The blond –Monica's sure he's dyed or even a wig– introduces himself as Pierce and Monica smiles, glad to know all the names.

Uncle Nick opens the file and spreads what looks to be engine diagrams over the table. Monica leans over to inspect it better and frowns at what she sees. She picks one of the drawings from the table to examine it closer. A second later the sheet is snatched from her hand.

"Hey!" she complains, glaring at Mr. Carson. The man gives her a disdainful look as he sets the paper in front of him.

"This isn't a pretty drawing for you to look at, girl."

"You think I don't know what this is? I helped my aunt design that thing!" this guy's really getting on her nerves. Nick gives her a look, but she ignores him. She's done with this jackass looking down on her just because she's young; she has more brains than him, and she's about to prove it. She smirks smugly –drawing her inner Mama forward– and leans back on her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "I think you're the only one looking at a pretty picture. Otherwise, you would've already seen the mistake."

The entire room freezes and looks at her; Her guardian wears the biggest confused puppy face she's ever seen –she'll have to ask him for tips–, Director Carter looks intrigued, Mr. Price is scanning the diagrams to find the mistake and Mr. Carson looks like he'd rather strangle her than go on completely paid vacations.

"Oh, right, you wouldn't have. You've never been to _space_, so you've never seen anything like this." Carson's face turns completely red. At her side, she hears Director Carter cough to mask her laughter.

"Monica," she looks at Uncle Nick, and she sees his patented I'm-so-done-with-this-shit look directed right at her. "Please do enlighten us on the error so we can continue with the meeting."

"Oh, I don't know, Uncle Nick. I'm just a teenager, after all, all I see here are pretty drawings." She narrows her eyes at Carson and she can hear Nick sigh. She knows she's being petty, but she doesn't care; she's not helping until this disgusting excuse of a man apologizes for treating her like a five-year-old. "Say you're sorry." She growls out, leaning forward and setting her weight over her arms on the table. Carson grounds his teeth and stays silent.

"For the love of God, Mitchell, apologize to Monica!" exclaims Peggy, rubbing at her temple. "You made a mistake: accept it, move on."

However, the man keeps his mouth shut, unwilling to accept defeat. Without a word, he gets up and storms out, slamming the door on the way out. Mr. Pierce jumps at the sound, so immersed he'd been in finding the mistakes. Monica knows the effort is futile, this man hasn't ever seen a Nova engine –a Nova anything, for that matter–, so he wouldn't know what's wrong and what's right.

"That man can be so childish sometimes…" sighs Peggy, shaking her head. She reaches over the table and grabs the paper, setting it in front of Monica. "Please, Monica, tell us about the mistake." Monica grins and nods.

"See this?" she tabs at a cylindrical part of the engine. "This is a carbonate convertor, it destabilizes carbon dioxide molecules, breaks them down, and uses the carbon as fuel, leaving only the oxygen."

"So… the machine does the photosynthesis." Monica ponders Mr. Pierce's words for a few seconds before nodding.

"Yeah. But instead of glucose, it makes pure energy."

"What's wrong with it then?"

"It's upside down." Silence. Pierce blinks.

"That's it?"

"I know it sounds stupid, but the engine will explode if the convertor isn't in the correct position. It will send the energy all over the engine instead of where it's supposed to be and it will blow up, big time. And this," she taps at a little unusual gear on the left side. "This thing doesn't even do anything, it's just a tiny wheel with spikes. I've never seen it before." She scans it again and then holds it up to the light, squinting. "Do any of you have a black light?" three pens appear beneath her nose. "Right, forgot we're in a spy agency." She grabs Director Carter's and shines it on the paper.

_That's my girl! I knew you'd see it!_

_PS: the real one is hidden in your summer homework_

Monica giggles as Uncle Nick releases a long-suffering sigh and drops his face onto his hands. Her mama is the best. Completely unprofessional, but the best. Mr. Pierce's brow twitches in disapproval, but when she turns to look at the director she finds her suppressing a smile.

"Looks like we'll have to adjourn the meeting for tomorrow." Says Nick finally, gathering the diagrams back into the folder. "Unless you brought your homework…?" Monica cringes and shakes her head.

"Tomorrow it is then. Same time works for you, gentlemen?" ads Director Carter as she rises to her feet, smoothing down her blouse. Both men nod and she turns to Monica. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Monica. I trust we'll see each other again?" Monica takes the offered hand and grins enthusiastically.

"I'm staying with Uncle Nick for two weeks." She informs as her answer. The director nods, pleased, and leaves the room with a final goodbye.

"Well, look at that, she likes you." Monica grins and bounces on her feet. "Ok, let it out…" she squeals like the teenager she is, jumping and grabbing at Nick's shirt. Nick turns his head to Pierce, who is watching them with an amused look in his eyes. "You should leave, this is gonna take a while."

A while turns out to be almost ten minutes as Monica takes advantage of the moment and lets out all the excitement about meeting one of her role model's and the fact that she's going to see her again tomorrow and probably along the next two weeks. When she finally calms down, they leave the boardroom and go back to Uncle Nick's office. Goose greets them at the door, jumping into the man's arms and climbing onto his shoulder to pass over to Monica. The girl giggles as her guardian grumbles about being used as a bridge.

They settle easily, Uncle Nick typing away in his computer while Monica sits on the floor with Goose in her lap and one of the books that were in the office. It's a Bruce Alexander novel called _Blind Justice_, a story about a thirteen-year-old orphan that helps the founder of the first police force of London in his cases. She finds the idea of someone her age being so smart and important appealing, and she hadn't resisted the temptation of sliding it from the bookshelf despite Nick's warning that it wasn't an easy read.

And it definitely isn't, something Monica finds out a few pages deep into the book. But she's nothing if not determined, so she grabs the dictionary wedged in the bookshelf between _Murder in the Vicarage _and _4:50 from Paddington_, both Agatha Christie novels. Monica spends almost a minute looking between them and Nick.

"I didn't know you were a Miss Marple fan, Uncle Nick." She grins when he looks up, and he gives her an irritated look that's in no way undeterred by his lack of two eyes.

"I'm an Agatha Christie fan, kid, I have every last one of her novels at home."

"Even the Mary Westmacott ones?" she giggles when his nostrils flare and his brow twitch.

"And how do you know about that, huh?"

"I'm an educated little girl." She laughs outright at the face he makes. "I read big books, Uncle Nick: Tolkien, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Edgar Allan Poe; don't tell my moms about that one though, they'll kill me if they find out. I've also read Frankenstein, Pride and Prejudice and half of Anne Lister's diaries. Oh, and I got a book of Sappho from the library too, but I'm not really into poetry." Nick's jaw works for a few seconds, his eye is wide and disbelieving.

She grins and goes back to the book. Two chapters and a lot of irritated typing later, Nick finally asks.

"Ok, I give up: who the hell are Anne Lister and Sappho?" grinning like a madwoman, Monica rises from the floor –book forgotten and Goose rolling off with an indignant _mroow!_– and practically skips the few steps from the little reading nook she'd made for herself to the desk, planting her butt on the edge and swinging her legs. "You were itching for me to ask, weren't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Go on then!"

"Well, let's see: Anne Lister was an English landowner from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. She made a fortune with the proprieties her father and aunt left her at their death and was married to Ann Walker for about six years until 1840, when she died."

"Ann?"

"She was a lesbian, yeah." Uncle Nick nods and motions her to go on. Monica relishes in the way he doesn't even bat an eye at the mention of homosexuality. "She's not that remarkable, in historian terms. She was just a woman that supported herself in a time that it was frowned upon if a woman wasn't married before her twenties; that's why I like her so much. I also had a lot of fun with her diary; part of it is written in code so to read it I had to decode it."

"Code?"

"Yeah, it was really tricky, but I used the decoded document for the library for help and I managed."

"If you already had it ready why did you do it yourself?"

"I was bored." She laughs and shrugs.

"And what about Sappho?"

"Oh, Sappho is the first lesbian ever recorded in history." Nick's brows go up and she nods, grinning. "Yeah! She was a Greek poet, from between 630 and 570 BC. She's the reason lesbians are called lesbians because she was known as Sappho of Lesbos. Just like Sapphic love and all that stuff. It's said that she was married to a man named Kerkylas of Andros, but given that it translates to 'Dick Allcocks of Man Island' it's not that convincing." She bursts out laughing at Nick's face. "And well, also the fact that all her poems are about her love towards women."

"Huh, interesting. If you're not going to read it, give me the book. I do enjoy poetry from time to time."

"Sure, I brought it with me. I think you'll like it, the ones I've read are really beautiful." Nick hums and she smiles.

"_Artfully adorned Aphrodite, deathless _

_child of Zeus and weaver of wiles I beg you _

_please don't hurt me, don't overcome my spirit,_

_goddess, with longing. _

_But come here, if ever at other moments _

_hearing these my words from afar you listened _

_and responded: leaving your father's house, all _

_golden, you_–"

A knock on the door interrupts her and Nick looks more pissed that someone would expect. His 'come in' is clipped, and the impatient tap of his finger on the wooden table shows his irritation. Monica's chest grows warm; he'd been enjoying listening to her recite the poem. The door swings open and a woman steps in, donned in a SHIELD jumpsuit, with her jet-black hair gathered in a bun and the bluest eyes Monica's ever seen.

"You asked for me, Agent Fury?" she stands with her back straight and her hands behind her. The image is broken for a second when she looks at Monica with bewilderment before returning to her position.

"Agent Hill, come in. Close the door, please." She does, and just in time to prevent Goose from scampering off. She meows and gives the door a little scratch. "No can't do, Goose, I'll get you your burger later." Goose gives a little satisfied purr and trots to her little bed. "Ok, where was I?" Both woman and teenager raise a brow at him. "Oh, yeah. Agent Hill, this is my niece, Monica Rambeau. Monica, this is Maria Hill, my new intern."

"New? What happened to Coulson?"

"He finished his training."

"Oh, yeah. Makes sense." She grins up at the woman and hops off the desk, offering her hand. "It's a pleasure, Agent Hill." The woman takes it, her face still confused.

"Likewise, Miss Rambeau." She makes a little dissatisfied noise.

"Monica's fine." Agent Hill nods before taking her hand back behind her and looking at Nick.

"Did you need me for something, sir?"

Monica disconnects when they start speaking in spy jargon she doesn't even try to comprehend and returns to her reading nook. Goose appears in her lap not long after and she's lulled into almost a Zen state by the captivating novel and the flerken's purr. However, Fury's parting words towards his protégée snap her out of it.

"– take Monica tomorrow with you while I work on the Goliath project with Deputy Director Marks."

"Wait, what?" she looks up from the book, the excitement about finally knowing who's the thief completely forgotten. "I'm thirteen, I don't need a babysitter! I know how to stay put in one place and behave, Uncle Nick!" he rolls his eyes exasperatedly.

"If I thought you needed a babysitter I wouldn't have offered to have you here with me and you would be back in Louisiana with your grandparents right now."

"Then why are you sending me off with her?" she's practically pouting now and the picture she makes, seated on the floor with a cat in her lap and a book not meant for kids in her hands, is sending mixed signals.

"Because she has hangar duty." Monica straightens from her slouched position. Uncle Nick smirks, satisfied, and Agent Hill watches on with confusion in her eyes.

"Hangar duty? With aircrafts?" Nick hums in affirmation and Monica jumps up, having the forethought of grabbing Goose before she can tumble out of her lap. "Will I be able to play with the engines?"

"As long as you don't tear them apart or make them go slower."

"YES!" she turns the flerken in her arms and raises her to the ceiling. Goose mewls and looks at her with big, green eyes. "We're going to the hangar tomorrow, girl!"

* * *

The rest of the day is uneventful. Monica drags her guardian to the cafeteria, where he hasn't stepped foot since he was a cadet, and demands he buy her a menu and the most chocolate-y dessert so they can share. He ends up getting a menu for himself and they decide to eat in the roof, where they won't be bothered. Nick also tells her that they've shocked the personnel enough for one day, if he were to sit in the cafeteria and eat there they would surely think that he's been possessed. So to the rooftop they go and they sit against the parapet with their burgers in their lap and the jumbo chocolate muffin with chocolate chips between them in a little plate. They eat in silence, only broken when Nick chuckles and tells her that she has a bit of ketchup on the tip of her nose. The gigantic muffin is split into equal parts and eaten with more gusto than the burger and fries.

The afternoon is spent again in the office, with Uncle Nick doing paperwork and Monica reading, Goose alternating between two laps and her bed. They leave the building at five o'clock and spend the afternoon around the city, sightseeing and grocery shopping, given that Nick's fridge and pantry had been frighteningly low on supplies.

After supper –turns out he _can _cook and he whips up a spaghetti carbonara that has Monica almost licking her plate– they sit in front of the TV for an hour before finally going to bed. Goose decides to stay the night with Monica and she giggles at the affronted look in Uncle Nick's face.

"Traitor." He mutters but then cracks a smile and wishes Monica goodnight, pressing a kiss to her brow before disappearing into his room.

Monica goes through her nightly routine and gets in bed. Goose curls up in her chest like a little furnace and she has to move her to her side not five minutes later. The flerken doesn't even protest.

"Goodnight, Goose."

_Mreow!_

* * *

**Again, please don't kill me, I have information to rely on:**

**\- ****After a lot of research, I found out that Anne Lister's diaries weren't released to the public until 2011, and that not only her handwriting was god-awful, but a fragment was written in code, mostly the parts where she spoke about her sexuality. For the sake of the story and because I want to talk about her one way or another, let's pretend that her diaries were decoded and made available to the public in the 1990s.**

**Sooo... Long time no see! *chuckles nervously* This is the first chapter of the third part of my We'll Always Have Each Other Series, and I know most of you hate me right now for how I left things in the last one –the lack of kudos was a really big tell–, ****but I hope that after this I'll get back on your good side.**

**I hope you enjoy and please don't kill me in your dreams and fantasies or else I won't be able to finish.**


End file.
